


once i caught a fish alive

by foxfireflamequeen



Category: DC Animated Universe, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Pirates, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 18:23:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1314739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxfireflamequeen/pseuds/foxfireflamequeen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Pirate,” he accuses, tilting his head like it will change the cursed P branded into her skin.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	once i caught a fish alive

 

They don’t meet at sea, is the thing.

Oh, the water is salt and the ships are large, but when she takes a deep breath and slips beneath the waves quiet as a seal, the sand below is littered with debris and human dirt. The water tastes like urine. She waits and listens, but there’s no tell-tale stomp of boots or shouted orders. The troops chasing her down aren’t gone and her lungs are burning.

She nearly blows her cover when the tap lands on her shoulder.

 _Follow me_ , she reads in his lips. Perhaps it’s not wise to swim after a man with no legs, but when given the choice between drowning and the noose, she’d rather pick neither, so she follows him to a little cove hidden in the rocks, bursts above the surface and splutters and coughs as he stares with eyes bluer than the sky.

“Pirate,” he accuses, tilting his head like it will change the cursed P branded into her skin.

“Will you kill me?” she asks, and he rolls his eyes so hard she worries they’ll fall out of his head. Lovely things, those eyes. And that tail, shimmering just below the surface. That tail would be worth a pretty penny in Libertalia.

He flicks a fin to send a strip of water at her face. “If you thought I was going to kill you, why did you come with me?”

“Better to die at the hands of a sea ghoul than at the noose,” she raises her chin, grips a knife in her fist. This may be his territory, but he’s unarmed and she’s a damn good fighter.

“You think you can fight me.” Before she knows what’s happening, there are long fingers around her wrist, twisting until she cries out and drops her weapon. He laughs.

There’s nothing human about that laugh.

“I eat sailors like you for breakfast, love.” The fingers are in her hair now, tangling in wet knots. “Or haven’t you heard the stories.”

“From what I heard, you make sure they think there’s no reason to fight.” She jerks from his hands.

He flashes his teeth at her. “Stay here. I’ll come for you when it’s safe.”

The moment he’s gone, she dives under and retrieves her blade, but he doesn’t stop to chat when he’s back, just leads her back to port before leaving with a salute and a flick of the tail she could have sold for a full chest of gold.

He saves her life, is the thing.

 

 

When they meet again, he’s dripping all over the deck of her ship.

“What are you doing here.” Artemis’ heart is in her throat, the moon is full above her head, and there’s a merman perched on the rail of her ship. “Did you _follow_ us?”

It’s been months since she made her miraculous escape from both the sea ghoul and the Royal Navy, months since she rejoined her crew and set sail for Libertalia, but only days since she weighed the amount a mermaid’s tail could have brought her in Singapore.

“A woman on a ship.” She doesn’t flush under his gaze; years with sailors have taught her better. “Not a lot of those up North. Fewer still are pirates. What went wrong?”

“I don’t have to tell you,” she snaps. “If there aren’t enough women up North, what are _you_ doing here?”

There’s that laugh again, lilting in the wind. The hair stands up at the back of her neck. He’s a monster a siren

_“I eat sailors like you for breakfast, love”_

and she should run run run now while she still has the chance.

“After six, ten months; couple years without making port,” he tilts his head, sweeps a careless hand over his tail. Artemis wants that tail so bad she can taste it. “Do you think they care anymore about what’s under the skirt?”

He doesn’t even pretend to leer at her; but she can’t take her eyes off him.

“You can’t have…” Her mouth is full of cotton; he waits patiently. “My men. You can’t have my men.”

“ _Your_ men?” It’s the mocking in his voice that snaps her out of it, makes her take five steps away for the three she took ahead. “You’re not captain of this ship, little lady.”

“It’s Artemis, and I’m quartermaster!” she snarls reflexively, and by the time she’s clamped a hand over her mouth, it’s too late.

The devilfish smiles, slow and feral. “I don’t want your men, Artemis,” he says, and pushes off the rail into the dark waters below.

 

 

“You’re back,” she observes two nights after a successful raid, somehow less alarmed than she should be. Not a single man is missing from her crew, and this time he’s not even on her ship.

His tail is draped over the rocks, finger drawing patterns into moss. “Ship full of sailors,” he says, not bothering to glance her way. “Why would I leave?”

“Do you really eat the ones you take?” she asks, leaning over the rail. His finger freezes for a moment, and even with his face turned away she can see the grimace. That’s a myth debunked, she’s pleased to know, because she doesn’t quite fancy being a merman’s dinner even if she has to be his prey. She leans her cheek in her hand. “So why do you take them?”

His tail ripples in the silver light. “Why did you set fire to that village when your plundering was done?”

 _For sport_ , she thinks. “To prevent a chase,” she says.

There’s disappointment in the shake of his head, pity in his voice. “I thought pirates were good liars.”

Artemis bristles, but it would be nigh hypocritical of her to judge a creature who murders for fun when she occasionally does the same.

“I like the chaos,” she says, and he looks up at that, rolls over on his back, graceful as a dolphin riding the waves. “And the thrill of the escape.”

His smile is full of sharp teeth. “I like the seduction.”

Artemis catches herself leaning forward, chasing that smile and the glint of his tail. She jerks back, and his laugh follows her across the deck as she walks away.

 

 

She knows the legends, knows what he is and what he does, but she still leans over the water when the moon is up and doesn’t speak a word of it to Roy when he asks for her reports, deters Wally with filthy kisses when he wants to know why she stopped delegating eventide patrols.

Her merman with his glimmering tail of red and blue and green doesn’t come every night. Never when there are others with her on a weather deck, never before eight.

She only waits sometimes.

 

 

“Robin,” he says when she asks.

“Like the bird?” Artemis raises a brow, skeptical, used to the way he laughs and laughs at things she doesn’t find funny. It’s good that he does it so much, she thinks, lest she forget how not-human he really is.

“Like the bird,” Robin agrees, shimmying up the anchor chain, tail curled around it like an eel.

“Have you ever seen a robin?” Artemis isn’t surprised when he shakes his head. They’re not seabirds, and his scales remind her more of a kingfisher, though that’s not a saltwater bird either. “So that’s not your real name.”

“I suppose you’ve seen the Lady of the Hunt,” he says, and, “Where’s your bow and arrows,” and, “Names have power, goddess,” and she knows it’s true because he never uses hers.

 

 

Libertalia is as incredible as she remembers. They drink and dance, she brings down a man twice her size with nothing but her fists and teeth and cuts his throat with her knife amidst tremendous cheers. Conner chugs bottle after bottle until he throws it all up in a pigsty. Wally disappears into his cabin for a full day and night, and when he emerges it’s on the arm of a Liberi girl with caramel skin and almond eyes akin to hers. Even Roy lays his head on a blonde woman’s breast, clinks mugs with a man with a beard yellow as his hair.

Artemis takes her own share of prizes. Liberi are nothing like ordinary folk. A young man with hair whiter than snow and skin to match lets her shove him into the mattress and swing her legs over his hips, a woman with midnight curls and ice blue eyes binds her wrists and makes her beg.

They set free a cargo of slaves and sink two Naval ships before the week is out. Artemis yearns for the sea like she does whenever they make port, but it’s a little lost in the delight in striking metal cuffs off dark hands and celebrating with sweet barrels of ale that make her memory foggy and her stomach ill.

The whispers start on the third week.

“Captain Anders has gone missing,” Conner tells her with furrowed brows one morning. “Hasn’t been back in two days, her crew claims.”

“How can she have gone missing; she never leaves her ship,” Artemis says incredulously, because she used to follow the woman like a moonstruck girl, made all the easier by her reluctance to set foot past the Tamaran’s hull.

Conner shakes his head, “S’not all. Captain Wilson’s been gone since the night they made port. His kids were keeping it quiet, but the girl’s makin’ noise now; she wants to take the Deathstroke and leave.”

Artemis closes her eyes, counts all her men one to twenty-four since she saw them last. “None of ours,” she sighs with cold relief.

“Not yet,” Conner says.

That night, Artemis takes a yard of chain into her cabin, presses the links into her arm and admires the red pattern it leaves behind. Zatanna might like it or she might not, but Artemis does and she can make her use it.

The pitcher of ale on her floor grows cold before she stands, slips into her shirt and breeches and ties her hair. The wind is chill, but she doesn’t bother pulling on her boots when she climbs onto the rail.

“Come on, Robin,” she calls to the waters. “I know you’re out there.”

He doesn’t keep her waiting, wet hair clinging to his face as his head rises above the surface. “Goddess,” he greets with a cheeky grin.

“You’ve been taking pirates from their haven,” Artemis accuses like he doesn’t know already.

“I have,” his smile widens. “Why, goddess, did you think you were the only pirate I… _talked_ to?”

“Did you have to take Zatanna?” Artemis asks, amused despite herself, because she has many delusions but not that one.

“Oh.” Robin’s confidence falters, brows scrunching in confusion. “But she’s Liberi, she said. The Lotus carries no Liberi.”

“It doesn’t.” Artemis gives him nothing else, but his eyes light up like beacons. Not for the first time, she wonders if merfolk can read thoughts as they flitter across brains. The stories don’t tell everything, after all.

“ _Oh_ ,” he tilts his head, flashes his teeth in a wicked smile. “She liked my mouth. Thought a muzzle and whip could tame anything, so I showed her what wild animals could do.”

 _Did you now_ , she doesn’t say. “I thought you didn’t eat the ones you take.”

Robin splashes his tail and spreads his arms. “I don’t,” he claims, innocent as a newborn babe, but a hungry shark couldn’t match the look on his face. There are things worse than death, Artemis supposes, kicks her feet and turns her thoughts.

“What did Kory like?” she wants to know. Kory with her mouth like sin and flashflood passions, how did the siren tempt the temptress?

“She wanted freedom,” Robin whispers like he’s telling her a secret. “So I made her free.”

The sea ghoul speaks in sea ghoul’s tongue; Artemis nods and doesn’t try to understand. “And Wilson?”

Robin’s lashes flutter, coy as a virgin maiden. “He liked _me_ ,” he says, and flits underwater.

 

 

Roy gathers the crew at dawn. “There’s a devilfish in these waters,” he rakes fingers through his hair, and Artemis stands frozen. “Kent’s swabbie was taken day before yesterday; the Olsen boy, you know him.” They do, because he liked making friends and they liked making fun of his lack of sea legs. “It’s not just us guests, Liberi are going missing too. You don’t have to believe me that it’s the merfolk or sirens or whatever y’wanna call them, but it’s clear enough that Libertalia’s not safe now. I say we leave while we still have all our men, set sail for Tortuga. Anyone want to disagree?”

No one does. They hoist their flag and open the sails, and within a few hours they’re making good time away from Madagascar. Artemis breathes the ocean salt and counts the gold coins she sold their raided lionskin for, divides it among the men along with the barrels of strange sweet ale. Some nights she leans over the rail and sees nothing but dark water, others she goes into Wally’s cabin at dusk and leaves at dawn.

They’re in no hurry, so it’s not a surprise that the Rogue Shadow catches up to them in two more months, going at full speed. Roy sends a bird over to them enquiring about Libertalia.

The Shadow’s lost none of her pirates, Roy confides in her, Wally and Conner around the wheel when the reply comes, but since they left, the Lantern seems to have misplaced her Carpenter Gardner and the Bird of Prey her Captain Gordon. Last the other ship heard, Roy reads, the Siren’s missing her First Mate Isley, and they all laugh at the irony till their stomachs knot.  

 

 

“Somethin’s cutting our damn net!” their striker growls, examining the frayed cords of the empty nets.

“Could have teeth, man, leave it alone,” Wally warns from the helm. Artemis turns away when she’s sure the man won’t dive overboard to see what’s doing the cutting, because he may be the most skilled hunter she’s ever seen but he can barely climb onto a ship without tripping on a ladder. They only have the one striker, and he was hard to find. It won’t do to lose him to a shark.

 

 

“Of course,” she says, when Robin takes a bite of fish and grins at her with bloody teeth from where he’s hanging off the lines of their fixed net, which he’s probably also cut. The moon dips under a blanket of clouds. “We need the catch, Robin.”

“You’ll live without fish for a while,” he picks tiny bones out of the carcass and drops them in the water. “I saw those big cats you left with.”

Artemis folds her arms on the rail and smiles at him, “We hunt fossa for their pelts.”

Robin blinks quizzically. He’s chewing on raw fish, face stained with blood, and he looks more human than she’s ever seen him. “What do you do with the meat?”

“Sometimes we eat it, but they don’t taste very good,” Artemis glances at the tail she dreamed of showing off in Libertalia. They’ve sailed away now, and he still has it.

“It’s the fire,” Robin says knowingly, peels a last shred of flesh from the skeleton. “You humans and your cooking, ruining good meat. Bit of blood and seagrass would fix it.”

She thinks of trying it; scares herself, just a little. “You left Libertalia.”

“Got bored,” he licks his fingers clean, looks just like a boy doing it, and she wishes he would laugh. “Left it to a sister. Men make tougher prey close to port; why bother when there are scores more at sea?” He dives into the water, and when he comes back up there’s another fish in his hands. He’s definitely cut the net. Their striker will be very unhappy on the morrow.

“No men for you here.” Artemis reminds him as he tears into the still-squirming creature.

Robin finally laughs, and even that sounds human tonight. “But there’s fish.”

 

 

Their haul en route to Tortuga is fantastic. Artemis crowns herself with a Governor’s wig and lets Conner swing her up, shoves a sweet little handmaid into her cabin and rips her pretty dress off.

“Not bad,” she takes a swig from her bottle, pushes the girl down on her bed and eyes her hungrily. Perky breasts, face lovely even when she’s crying. Just a bit plump, and Artemis likes that. This one will be good for at least a few months. “Sorry ‘bout the mattress; bloody thing’s always damp. Woes of living on water. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“M-Megan,” the lass stutters, curling into herself. She has real nice hair, red and knotted into a tight bun. Artemis pulls up her own blonde hair and looks at her reflection in the gilded mirror Wally got her when they attacked Newport.

Nah. Too proper.

“You ever been with a woman, Megan?” The girl’s eyes go wide, cheeks flushing pink, and Artemis grins. “Virgin, are you? Don’t worry; I’ll be gentle.”

She makes her scream.

Later, she stumbles onto the main deck to feel the wind on her heated skin, empty bottle abandoned for a flask. The rum is rich and bitter, and best of all, it didn’t cost a penny.

Robin is waiting for her on the bridge tonight, and she’s too drunk to figure out how he got up there without legs. He takes her in carefully; Artemis follows his gaze to her half-unbuttoned shirt and unlaced breeches, hair free from its tie and spilling over her chest. She looks back up and smiles so wide her cheeks hurt.

“Like what you see?” She spreads her arms, does a slow twirl for him. “S’not for you, _love_.”

“Mhm,” he says noncommittally. “Did you have fun?”

“Lots,” she grabs a line, swings forward, then back. “Take what you want, set course for open waters. Tha’s the life.”

“It’s the life you want?” The blues and greens of his tail draw her eyes as he flicks it against the dry boards. She licks her lips, tasting the rum on her tongue. He has a lovely face too.

“It’s a pirate’s life, Robin.” And one day she would have her own ship, set course for the horizon and never look back. “It’s what we all want. You’re wasting your time here.”

Robin nods like he actually understands; Artemis laughs at him and goes back to where her new girl is keeping her bed warm.

 

 

The next morning, Megan is gone.

 

 

“How did you get her.”

Robin smiles, slow and lazy like a cat sunning on the deck with a full belly. Artemis wants to rip his guts out.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about!” she storms ahead, barely remembering to stop out of reach. Waking up in a cold bed is always more unpleasant when she can still remember the heat of another body from the night before. “She’s not on this ship, we’re out on the ocean, there was nowhere for her to go but with _you_.”

There’s a harpoon lying twelve feet away, but by the time she reaches it he’ll be gone. Her heart hammers like a jackrabbit’s.

“I told you,” she says. “You can’t have my—”

“Your men; I remember,” he interjects coolly, staring her down. He likes positioning himself above her, she’s noticed, and usually she prefers it, watches the muscles flex beneath his skin and his tail shimmer in the moonlight, but tonight she feels belittled. “Megan isn’t _yours_ , goddess, and she certainly is no man.”

“I claimed her, she was mine.” It’s no use repeating the Code to a creature not even human, let alone a pirate. “You took her.”

“I only take the willing.” His face is inscrutable. The ‘unlike you’ goes unsaid.

Artemis’ mouth tightens. “You killed her. You kill everyone you take.”

Robin laughs, long and haunting. Something like fear curdles in her stomach when he bares his teeth at her.

“Only sometimes.”

 

 

Artemis keeps such a keen eye on her men the next few weeks she’s not even surprised by Wally’s approach when she finishes doling out a punishment. No one’s acting out of the ordinary, not even the surgeon filched from the passenger ship they scavenged not a fortnight before. She might have looked twice at Roy’s offer to take the doctor off her hands and under his wing, but that was before she caught the way the captain’s eyes lingered on the man’s broad shoulders. Artemis isn’t one for the patterned dark skin and curiously light hair, and he’s too quiet by far, but every pirate has their taste. Roy’s pined for her snake of a sister long enough; if it’s a man’s flesh he needs to bring an end to that embarrassment, so be it.

“What devil’s riding your shoulder, Crock?” Wally demands once they’re alone, lips pinched in suspicion.

“None.” She makes a note to talk to the doctor. He’s no sailor; he doesn’t know the stories. What’s she going to tell Roy if his shiny new toy disappears one moonlit night?

Wally snorts, and for half a second Artemis sees red at the derision aimed at her yet _again_. “You’ve been riding us like mules and you say nothing’s wrong? The Logan boy made a little mistake; you didn’t need to bring out the pussy.”

“Laid ‘em on his back, didn’t I?” Artemis fires, though she softened her blows on the second lash because he only broke a set ofcups. Who cares for _glass?_ “He took them like a man, too. Gar’s a good boy. I did my job and he’ll be a stronger man for it.”

“You know that’s not what I’m saying, Artemis.” Wally’s voice softens, kindness edging through. He’s a godawful pirate. “I don’t want to take this to the old man any more than you do, but I will if—”

“Roy’s got enough on his mind,” Artemis cuts in sharply. “Someone needs to remind him that his _surgeon_ is only working for us in exchange for safe passage. Once we get back to Port Royal he’ll scurry on home and be all prestigious again. He’s no _keeper_.”

“That what this is about?” Wally smiles, open and relieved and Artemis despairs of him; he’s so _easy_. “You don’t trust the new doctor?”

“Strangers,” she corrects. Strange- _ness_. “I don’t trust strangers.”

“He’ll be gone soon,” Wally shrugs. “Or he’ll stay long enough that he won’t be a stranger no more.”

“Maybe,” she allows, watches him shift on his toes and lean close.

It’s just past midday. Artemis’ cabin is empty, the sun is scorching overhead, Wally’s feet are bare and his eyes are green.

“I’ll get the good doctor to take a look at Gar’s back, then,” she says, and leaves him standing there, blinded by sunlight in her yellow hair.

 

 

She waits until they’re anchored in the shallows, then leans over the rail when the stars blink alight. Hoists herself up and swings her legs over the water when they grow tired, dozes and nearly tips off as the moon goes down.

The skies are lightening at the horizon by the time Robin deigns to grace her with his presence.

“Care to join me?” Artemis jumps so hard she nearly falls into the water; Robin snickers from where he’s a shapeless mass bobbing among the waves.

“I’m not that easy,” she breathes, and he tilts his head back to laugh. His hands and tail wrap around the anchor chain, arms flexing as he pulls himself up.

He climbs onto the rail beside her, close enough to touch, tail swaying. Back and forth and back and forth, and Artemis can’t look away.

“I’m not that easy,” she says again.

“No,” Robin agrees after a moment. “You’re not.”

His eyes are sincere when she meets them. “You’ve been gone a while.”

Twenty-five nights she didn’t wait; twenty-five nights he didn’t come.

“It was your turn.” He pushes dark hair out of his face. The ends are jagged, like he cut them on the sharp edge of something that’s not scissors. They curl at his neck as they dry. Could she keep him if she knew his name?

“I see the way you look at me.” Like he _wants_ but doesn’t know how to get. “How do you tempt the sailors, Robin, who don’t just want that?” She gestures to him, all lithe muscle and glistening scales and skin, a vision and a nightmare.

“Lots I want,” she says. “Think you can convince me I’ll have it all if I go with you?”

Robin catches her hand, faster than any human will ever be, leaning into her space until she can smell the salt in his breath. “You think I don’t see the way you look at _me?_ ” he hisses in her ear. “Think my tail can buy you your dreams, goddess? Think there’s money enough in the world that will buy you the seven seas?”

Artemis wrenches from the grip that’s neither warm nor cold, not wrinkled from water or roughened from wind. It takes barely a moment to twist his arm behind his back, lock a leg around his waist and pull him over the bulwark. Robin’s body shakes with mirth as they sink to the deck under his weight, so much heavier than she expected.

“I know sailors, sailor.” She jolts at the feel of baby fine hair on her neck as he curls into her without protest. “The few who don’t want— _this_ —already gave themselves away, _or_.” They watch her hand slide down his tail, unbidden and unstopped. Robin’s breath hitches on a laugh.

“They all want the same thing,” he whispers.

His scales are so fragile under her palm. “Only sometimes, you said.” Artemis pulls him close, inhales saltwater and seagrass and the faintest scent of fresh fish.

“I did.” Robin plays with a long strand of her hair, bites on the end like it’s a blade of grass.

“And the other times?” she asks.

He laughs and laughs, and when she kisses him he tastes like rain.

 

 

Robin’s eyes are bluer in the sun.

 

 

Roy shoves her into the mizzenmast in full view of the crew, Wally and Conner flanking him. Conner’s face is as unmoving as ever, but Wally shuffles uncertainly in _her_ position at the captain’s left shoulder. Roy’s chest heaves like he’s run a mile, voice hoarse with fury.

“You brought a devilfish onto my ship.” His fingers shake around her throat. “You brought a curse upon my men and then you helped it escape!”

“And you were going to do what?” Artemis chokes, palms still itching from the texture of scales. Roy had roared and charged, and Robin had slipped from her arms as though he were in them every night. “Spear it? Did you want an _army_ of devilfish after us? He has _brethren_ , Roy. Do you think they’d let us go free if we spilled their brother’s blood? We’d never be safe on water again. I did your ship a goddamn favor is what I did, and if I fell for its spell it was hardly my fault. That thing is _magic_ , Captain, and I’m but a mortal.”

“Told you it was bad luck to have a woman on a ship,” she hears someone mutter just as Roy slams her back hard enough that her head cracks against the wood, and Artemis uses her anger to chase away the stars across her vision.

“I ought’a have you walk the plank,” Roy says, but his grasp is slackening. “Hand you to the sea ghoul, lest he come back for you.”

“I’ll kiss the gunner’s daughter and pet the cat, because I did fall prey to a siren song and I did make a mistake.” She raises her chin, the taste of summer rain tart on her tongue and the weight of Robin’s tail heavy in her hands. She’d pushed it over the rail after him, quick as she could before the harpoon went searing by her ear. It was both their mistake, lingering past dawn. “But I’m not yours to give away. I am quartermaster of the Lotus, Captain, not your first mate.”

“Keelhaul ‘er, Captain!” This time Artemis hears the snap in the seaman’s cough. She’ll see how much Desmond likes keelhauling when she’s allowed to resume her duties. There won’t be enough of him left to row with by the time she’s done.

“He took pirate upon pirate in Libertalia and still came after us,” she meets Roy’s eyes. “You think giving him one sailor now’ll make him go away?”

Roy holds her gaze until she looks away. “Twenty lashes,” he releases her, and she stumbles but doesn’t fall. “Conner, take her down.”

 

 

Twenty isn’t a big number, but Conner didn’t get to be bos’n by being small. She takes the lashes and lets him help her to her cabin. He waits until she bites down on the rag before saying, “I’ll get the doctor for you.”

Artemis’ protest is muffled, then the brine pours over her split skin and it’s all she can do to not scream.

 

 

The surgeon’s name is Kaldur, and he’s a good man if she’s ever seen one.

Artemis pities Roy.

 

 

There are no humans in her dreams.

 

 

She hears the crew shouting, rushing, Wally’s voice rising above the rest, and by the time he bursts into her cabin she’s already dressed, white shirt prickling at her tender back.

It’s been days since she’s been above deck, delegated to stay below until her wounds healed. She’s been sitting up for at least fifteen minutes, watching the darkening skies through the porthole and waiting for her call. The wind slams into her face the moment she climbs up, the ship lurching under her feet. Roy is at the wheel, and Artemis follows Wally to him as Conner fights with the anchor.

“We need her, Roy! All hands on deck!” Wally shouts over the roar of the waves when Roy raises a brow at her, but Artemis waits for his nod to make for the forecastle, joining the seamen in undoing lines and retying them elsewhere. They’ve taken care of most of the rigging, but the storm came on within a matter of minutes; there hasn’t been time to touch the sails. At the helm, Wally takes over the wheel as a giant wave tilts them to the right. “We need to come about!” he calls to her, and Artemis nods.

“Reef the sails!” she cries as another wave breaks over the deck, sending her men swimming and scrabbling for handholds. Roy reaches Kaldur where the doctor helps Gar tug in a line; she sees them make for the bridge just before the whole ship shudders under the force of a wave, and—

“Sink me, sink her,” Conner secures the nipper and hangs over the rail. “She’s bilged on her anchor. Breached the hull.”

“Grab some men and fix it!” she yells, pushes wet hair behind her ear and makes for the spanker. They can’t afford a leak now.

The skies are almost black. Artemis has spent her whole life at sea and never seen it so angry.

Then again, she’s spent her whole life at sea and met but one devilfish.

“You should’ve thrown me over,” she tells Roy as he joins her, and they pull down the sail together. Roy laughs.

“It’s not a curse, Artemis.” He knots the line. “If merfolk had so much power we wouldn’t need gods.”

“Merfolk can swim in these waters,” she grins back at him because a storm is like a raid and they might die but if she survives she always wins. “The gods won’t save us if she sinks, Roy. Haven’t seen a storm like this in all my years of sailing.”

“She’s strong.” Roy loves this ship more than he’s ever loved her sister, and when Kaldur goes he’ll love her more. Artemis envies him for having her. “We’ll make it.”

The mainsail is still up, five men struggling to bring it down, but the wind’s too strong for it to furl. The thrill in her bones dies with her smile. The topmast is going to go any second.

“Get away from there!” she screams at them. Roy races past her, his eyes on their pilot. He tackles Wally to safety just as the mast cracks halfway up, takes the rigging with it and comes crashing down over the helm. The sail lands over Roy and Wally, and Artemis doesn’t breathe until they scramble out from under it.

Then Gar is at her waist, pulling her sleeve. “Quartermaster,” he says. “Bos’n sends me to tell you the lower deck is flooded. We fixed a leak but there’s more. I dunno where they come from, but he says he needs more men to fix them.”

“We can’t spare more men.” There are stones in her gut. They can live without a mast but a sinking ship will take them all with her. “Tell Conner to get up here.”

Gar nods and races away; a breaking wave nearly sweeps him off deck but he clings to a line. By the time Artemis reaches the helm he’s disappeared under.

“We’ve got leaks,” she tells Roy, grabbing for the wheel when he lets go because Wally can’t hold it alone. “Lower deck’s flooded. Conner needs more men.”

“How many?” Roy demands. “We need everyone here to hold the rigging we’ve got left. Another one goes and it won’t matter if she sinks or not.”

“She’ll be too heavy to fight the waves by the time anyone’s free,” Artemis says, and watches the awful realization dawn on his face as he looks up at the sky. “It’s not going to let up anytime soon, Roy.”

“Storms like this come and go in the blink of an eye,” Roy says stubbornly. Artemis shares a look with Wally.

“Roy,” Wally hedges, but the captain’s eyes are blazing like they haven’t since the night they sailed the Asian seas.

“We’re not abandoning her,” he snarls, face shining with rain and spray. “The boats won’t hold on these waves anyway.”

“At least they’ll float!” Artemis shouts over a clap of thunder. “She’s going down, Captain, and she’ll drag us all to the Locker with her!”

“Then _you_ go!” Roy rounds on her so viciously she takes a step back, and he shoves Wally away and grabs the wheel. “Take the men and take the boats. A captain goes down with his ship. I won’t leave her again!”

“What are you talking about?” Wally starts to ask, but Artemis grabs his arm to silence him. Roy would sell his soul for the Lotus, but he won’t have a soul left to sell if he’s dead.

Conner climbs up to the deck, and she reads it in the shake of his head. They’re likely going to die if they stay, and they’re her men. It’s Roy’s ship, but they’re her men and her responsibility and she’s the reason Robin hasn’t picked them off one by one already.

Her knife is sharp, so she makes sure it’s the hilt that strikes Roy across the back of his head.

“Help me get him to a boat,” Artemis orders Wally. With Roy out of commission, the captain’s duties fall to her. “Get Kaldur,” she tells Conner as he rushes to their side. The doctor’s not one of hers, but she’s a pirate and she leaves no man behind if she can.

“Lower the boats!” she shouts to her crew. “We’re abandoning ship!”

 

 

It’s dark above and dark below and she swims swims swims her lungs cry for air but which way is up?

 

 

She claws her way to the surface, gasps for breath as a wave crashes over her. When she rises again she searches for her capsized boat, the five other men in it, but she can’t even see the Lotus, vision blocked by a sheet of fierce rain and waves that carry her up and down as she struggles to stay afloat.

“Storms like this, we weather deep underwater,” Robin’s voice carries over the wind, and Artemis whips to where he floats on the waves not a foot away, easy as breathing, face turned to the sky. It only makes sense that he’ll be here now, makes sense that he should get to watch her drown in what she wants most in the world. “Can’t fight these waves, goddess, not even us. They’ll carry us who knows where, slam us up against a rock or a ship and kill us before we can dive down.”

“What’re you doing on the surface, then?” she asks, spits out saltwater and breathes while she still can.

He grins at her, undeterred by the wave trying to drag him down. “Your Lotus was strong, goddess, but humans have yet to make a ship that can take on a terror like this.”

Artemis opens her mouth, but the water pulls her under, holds her down. She inhales reflexively as long fingers wrap around her arm, surges up coughing. Robin’s face is inches from hers.

“Do you still want to know,” he smiles, bright as a lighthouse at night. She feels his tail wind around her waist. “About the other times?”

Artemis kicks harder, weariness trickling into her limbs. His eyes glitter like the sapphires she once stole from a prince’s crown and wore in her hair till they grew dull.

 _Yes_ , she thinks. “How do I know this isn’t the sometimes?” she asks.

His laugh is a living thing, curling around her heart and squeezing so it hurts. “You’re dead either way if it is.”

Artemis swallows a mouthful of water that tastes like his skin, feels the ocean at her back where it stings and burns. She wants the grey skies and the tall waves, nothing at the horizon but seas and wind. She wants to see if her sapphires are still at the bottom of the Caribbean.

He watches her watch him, runs his tongue over his teeth. “It could be worse than death, Artemis.”

She wants him and his tail. She wants to know his name so she can keep him like the ocean will keep her.

“It’s not,” she says.

The storm mutes in her ears when she takes his hand. He laughs and pulls her down, deeper and deeper until she can’t breathe.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The story of the Lotus is one that couldn't be told through Artemis' eyes, but [here](http://foxfireflamequeen.tumblr.com/post/79621714676/the-lotus) is a brief history of Roy and his beloved ship.
> 
> Knowledge of sailor jargon isn't necessary to understand what's going on (hopefully), but I've provided a few resources for anyone interested. [This](http://pirates.hegewisch.net/capcrew.html#mate) and [this](http://www.thepirateking.com/historical/ship_roles.htm) page sums up the roles aboard a (pirate) ship in fewer words than the sailor manuals in our library. [Here](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glossary_of_nautical_terms) is a glossary of nautical terms, [this](http://www.pirateglossary.com/Phrases.html) contains some sailing lingo, [these](http://www.history.com/news/history-lists/6-famous-pirate-strongholds#mate) are a few famous pirate strongholds, and [here](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Libertatia) is a short summary of Libertalia, the pirate Atlantis.


End file.
